Mo Athair
by RareChibiRyuu
Summary: A not-so-accidental mishap in Potions sends Harry into the past as a five year old boy. What better way to get to know his parents? That's what he thinks anyway. Father/son bonding, mischief making, and the wooing of Lily Evans. Rated for swearing.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey! I got this idea from another story, so I'm not claiming it's mine, I'm just gonna see about going at it a slightly different way. I really wish that story would continue but oh well.**

**Warnings: Swearing, fluff… it's a father/son bonding fic people! Usual warnings apply! Oh! And implied child neglect and verbal abuse. Stupid Dursley's!**

**Pairings: James/Lily, later.**

**Disclaimer: Do not own.**

Harry took in a deep breath, potions fumes of varying repugnance wafting into his nose and activating his gag reflex, though he managed to hide his shudder carefully. He never did like Potions class. He thought he might have, at one time, had it not been for the great bat of the dungeons himself, Professor Severus Snape. The bitter man had taken his severe odium of James Potter and forced it upon the boy merely because the Marauder was not here to take the disdain himself.

Now they were in sixth year Potions, several months after the final defeat of the dark lord and, despite how different Harry had grown to become over the summer since then, he found he could not change his view of Potions. It was genuinely that horrific.

On this particular day, they were given the task to brew a complicated potion of their choosing, to later be tested by themselves, so that no one but themselves could feel the consequences of their own, imminent failure. Harry went with the simplest of age reduction elixirs, bordering on too simplistic, as Snape had nearly not allowed it. However, just before reaching Harry, he had allowed Millicent Bulstrode a similarly complex potion and Hermione almost put up a fuss on his behalf.

Due to so many potions being concocted in the same space, the usual damp air of the dungeons was rife with dizzying odors and eye watering stench. More than a few students had even excused themselves, not quite able to force back the need to throw up. Snape took in the general misery of every individual with maniacal glee (or as close to as Harry figured the man could get).

Harry carefully crushed his moths' wings in a mortar, not entirely focused on his task. The fumes were beginning to get to his head and his thoughts were far away. It was still very hard to believe how easy it had been to finally defeat Voldemort at the end of last year. Well, okay, maybe not _easy_, per say.

Fighting off possession was damn near impossible, after all. However, Harry was adamant that possession was just a rather large scale Imperius, a spell he had no problems throwing off. The end result had been more than unexpected. When Voldemort had entered his mind, Harry's magic reacted to his need to fight and tore into the intruder. If Harry had been any less powerful, the snake would have only been forced out. As it was, his magic encompassed them both and destroyed everything in could find of the horrible soul it was fighting, including the horcruxes, which Dumbledore later explained to him as split pieces of one's soul, only acquired through sacrifice of human life.

In his distraction, Harry was unaware of a rising tension to the right of him, nearly three places over and an isle back. While there were plenty of Slytherin who disliked Harry Potter, it was not a member of the Snake Pit that regarded him with utter loathing. It was a raven, intelligent as they come, who plotted his revenge from his perch. This boy was much like a raven in appearance, with glassy black eyes and hair the color of ink. He was a silent observer and dangerously knowledgeable of his own fair share of charms and hexes.

He had also lost his brother to Azkaban that very summer.

So yes, Ravenclaw Adrian Reynolds resented the wizarding savior. He had been neutral, as were his brothers suggestions, but the older man had chosen to side with Voldemort, if only to be with his beloved fiancé. Now, the brothers were separated, probably never to see one another again. And Harry was to blame.

It was completely unexpected, when it came. It was nearing the end of class time and Harry finished brewing, elixir colored exactly as it should be. He ladled some into a vial and approached the front to stand behind Padma Patil, who was demonstrating the effects of a poorly brewed Glamour Revealing potion. When Snape was through cutting her down and slapping a vicious 'T' on her forehead (metaphorically, of course), Harry stepped forward and held the glass container out for the bat to scrutinize.

"Potter." The man's sneering baritone seamed to echo in Harry's ears. "What, exactly, is this meant to be?"

Harry narrowed his eyes minutely before replying through slightly ground teeth. "An Age Reducing elixir, sir."

Snape made no comment, only staring at him with cold eyes. After a minute or two, he sat back and glared. "And what, might I be so bold to ask, are you _waiting_ for, Mr. Potter?"

Harry blushed lightly, retracting his hand and refusing to retort. He uncorked the vial and knocked it back, just as a soft whisper sounded behind him and a flash of bright, yellow light enveloped his vision. For a split second, the boy-who-lived saw his Potions Professor's astonished face before pain like nothing he had ever experienced flooded his bloodstream and everything faded away.

His last thought was a hopeful wish that his potion had worked, and that he at least got an E, if not for exceeding expectation, then for effort.

HPHPHPHPHP

Ice. Was he made of it? Maybe this was what snowmen felt like. If so, he was never making another one again. No one deserved this. This unbearable frost that coated every vein, threw every nerve into hyper drive. It was so, so painful, like the Cruciatus. Except it was more than that, wasn't it? The torture curse set every nerve on fire. But whatever this was, it was freezing, biting and all-encompassing, taking all into it; his nerves, his veins, his very bones.

Sickening snaps echoed in his subconscious, and shifting in his body structure alerted him to the constant shrinking he was enduring under the pain. Was that supposed to happen with age reduction?

After what seemed like hours, his bones stopped breaking and shrinking and the pain slowly began to recede. The icy grip ebbed away until all that was left was deafening silence. There was nothing else, no thing to be felt and no odor to be smelt, just silence and the typical company of his own thoughts. What was happening? Why had he felt so much pain? What had that light been? A curse? An unusual reaction to the potion? Where was he now?

With that thought, consciousness swept over him and he could suddenly feel and hear and smell and it was almost overwhelming but for its muffled quality. The far off chatter of many students gathered in one place made him smile and he came to the accurate conclusion that it was about lunch time, as the noise wasn't enough to be dinner, which was a required-to-be-there sort of meal.

Slowly, Harry raised his shaky arms and pushed himself off his stomach. A dizzying headache pounded behind his temples and he caught his breath before pursuing another venture to stand upright. All his limbs felt numb and he thought he must look like a new born giraffe. Or more like a fawn, he thought with a weary laugh, a bumbling prongslet.

Pushing thoughts of Sirius and his father aside, he heaved himself up and implored his legs to keep him that way, at least for a moment. He bemoaned his new found small(er) stature and couldn't, for the life of him, guess how old he must appear. He figured though, by the exasperating invasion of babyish thoughts and feelings, that he might be much younger than he was intending. The urge to cry about it was not a line he was going to cross or comment on. Ever.

He marveled at his new thoughts and urges, thinking it a weird feeling to remember so much but react like any small child would. Most disturbing, he found, was that many of his memories were wispy and hard to pin down. He knew who he was and who his friends were and everything, but it was all pushed away, taken over by his new, childish instincts.

He looked around for any reflective surface, his older self scolding him and his younger self mental sticking his tongue out childishly as he spotted a suit of armor. It was not perfect but it would have to do. Walking up to it, he discovered that the top of his head reached just below the bottom of its knee. That meant he was five, or there about. He was very small at five, and his thoughts were too well put together to be three, as he looked to others.

He really did not need to see anything else, as it was all the same from his last go around as a toddler. Too small, too thin, knobby knees, messy hair, extremely large eyes… Now that he thought about it, he was a bit like a house elf. The thought of Dobby with his hair came to mind and he giggled, the noise coming out high and childish. He covered his mouth with his too small hands but continued to laugh. Acting on a whim, Harry puffed his chest out and struck a pose, maybe trying to see more of his dad in him. It only caused another peal of laughter.

Stumbling footsteps and barking laughter punched him out of his giggly daze and into action, hiding swiftly behind the suit of armor into a tiny niche that he could now fit into, but anyone else in the school would have a difficult time with.

"You should have seen Minny's face! It was priceless, really, best one yet." Harry heard a young boy say in a very familiar voice, though he couldn't place it.

"Padfoot, my friend, our goal is not to give Minny a heart attack. It is to bring joy into the souls of all, young and old!" Harry felt a chill very reminesent of his arrival here run down his spine. _Padfoot? And why does that new voice sound so familiar_?

A warm chuckle sounded was the boys rounded the corner and Harry's breathe caught. It was… "Well said, Prongs. Very inspiring."

A young James Potter, about 16, stood there in all his glory. His chest puffed out slightly and he bowed dramatically at the waist. Despite the situation, a bubble of laughter began to develop in his chest and he mentally cursed his new, five year old mind for finding his father's antics amusing. Beside the teen were Sirius Black and Remus Lupin, so different from their older selves yet so similar and the bubble dissipated as a strong sorrow urged him to cry.

Sirius, his godfather, had died just before he defeated Voldemort, falling through the Veil after being hit by a stunner cast by Bellatrix Lastrange. He had not lived to see freedom again and there had been no body for a proper burial. He was simply gone, never to be remembered as anything but a mass murderer that he was not.

His throat strained with suppressed sobs but a small whimper broke through, sounding unbearably loud. On the other side of the suit of armor, the trio of teens had just been passing and Remus, with his enhanced hearing, caught the little noise. He stopped in his tracks and listened, putting a hand up to stop the others from making any noise, as they had stopped as well to question him. Harry tried to silence his breathing but it was hard and it only sounded harsh in his ears.

Remus turned slightly, staring intently at the suit of armor. His eyes observed it, starting from the helmet and going down. As he reached its legs, he caught a gleam of light and nearly jumped three feet when his gaze locked his that of large, emerald green pair of eyes that stared right back at him.

Harry watched as he collected himself after the scare and moved closer, to which Harry moved back, making a shuffling noise that he was sure the others heard as well. Soon, the armors legs were out of view and Remus' replaced them, before they bent and the werewolf was looking at him curiously. His eyes were warm Amber, much brighter as a teenager, and Harry relaxed a little. This was Moony, he remembered. Moony would never hurt him. And teenage Sirius… well he supposed he should make the most of what he had.

And then there was his father. He finally had a chance to meet him, despite the circumstances, and he'd be damned if he missed it.

He would worry about those circumstances later.

Right now, Remus was still only looking at him, perhaps trying to wrap his brain around the fact that there was a three (five!) year old child hiding in a dark place in a corridor off the Great Hall.

"Oi!" Sirius called, this being the fifth time already with no result. "Remus, what the bloody hell is so great about that dusty old…" He stuggled to find the right word. "Alcove, or whatever?"

The werewolf leveled him an exasperated glare before motioning the two forward to take a look. Sirius was first, looking a little huffy as he bent down, only for his face to morph in wonder as he spotted the child. Harry, for his part, merely stared back. He made his eyes larger and bent forward to seem for intense in a childish game of Who Blinks First. Sirius, being who he was, accepted the challenge subconsciously, eye twitching just a bit to stay open. Remus caught on and slapped the dog upside the head, receiving an indignant shout and a much softer giggle that only he caught, much to his amusement.

James, feeling sorely left out, shoved between the other two, and placed himself directly in the middle for a good look. Sirius kicked him as best he could on hands and knees and Remus grunted, shoving back lightly with his shoulder. But by then, James only had eyes for the child in the alcove. All he could do was stare and be stared at, though it was entirely different from the staring that had been going on a minute ago. James found that he couldn't look away from the green eyes. He could not see much else very clearly, but he had always been a sucker for the color.

Harry found James just as interesting. He took in the messy hair and the aristocratic features. He looked into his Hazel eyes and picked out which features he had picked up. He found that it was only most of his facial structure and his hair that looked the same. He did not have broad shoulders or a strong, masculine jaw-line. His nose was different too. He could not tell much else from the slumped position he was taking. However, in the moment Harry felt a long forgotten connection snap back into place, as if his father had never died.

"What," A deep voice drawled behind them. "are you idiots doing?"

Harry jumped, recognizing the voice as Severus Snape. Memories of his torment in school surfaced and Harry felt a "Baby Episode" as he was beginning to call them, start to build up as Sirius turned to scowl fiercely at the new arrival. He and Remus stood up to deal with Snape as Harry began to get more frustrated with himself and his stupid child mind. Whoever created that potion was stupid!

When James finally looked behind him to see how the others were doing, Harry moved forward very slowly, forcing himself to make no noise. He came to the edge of the alcove, just under James head, before anyone noticed him. That someone was Remus, who had been watching the James to see if he would join in or stay with the child. He was hoping he would stay with the kid, to make sure he didn't run off. It was dangerous in the castle.

When Harry moved forward and the light from the hall finally illuminated for of his features, Remus was floored. He cast his eyes from James to Harry in apparent astonishment, jaw dropped and eyes wide. James, noticing the attention, looked down and his head almost collided with the little boys. By now, Sirius and Snape, who had been hurling insults at each other, noticed too and gaped openly.

Harry crawled out a little more and sat, cross-legged, intense eyes now locked on Snape. He was much less pale, Harry noticed. Perhaps he went out more, as a teen. The sudden, unwelcome image of Snape running around in cargo shorts and a tee-shirt filled his mind and he giggled I little too loudly, because Snape scowled.

"I didn't know you had a spawn, Potter." His voice was laced with venom, eye narrow with a bit of disgust. "Impregnate some poor girl a few years back, did you?"

Harry frowned. How old did he really look? He was five, damnit! Beside him, James looked enraged.

"How dare you?!" James stood up faster than Harry would have expected him capable of, wand ready and pointed at Snape. In this time, Harry decided some pay back for six horrible years at school was in order. So before James could even begin to form a spell on his lips, Harry was up and right in front of Snape. Then, with an audible grunt, Harry kicked the teen very hard in the shin. Harry wrestled with himself on an insult, caught between cursing in front of Remus and humiliating himself by using baby insults.

One quick look at Remus made his decision for him. "Meany!"

Snape was too busy clutching at his shin to reply and Sirius was howling with laughter, unable to control himself. James and Remus were still too stunned to do anything but stare.

Harry continued. "That's not nice, he didn' mpeg… impwega.." Harry huffed, not understanding why his mouth can't possibly form that stupid word. "He didn' do that!"

Now Remus and James were trying desperately to hold in there laughter. Snape was being told by a child. It was priceless.

"What's going on here?" A feminine voice rose above the childish shouting and it immediately stopped as all eyes turned to its owner. A red-haired woman Harry recognized as his mother, Lily Potter, or Evans right now, stood with her hand on her hips, lips a thin line. Harry likened her to a scolding Mrs. Weasley.

Sirius didn't even try to contain himself, clutching his stomach harder as tears began to stream down his face. "He- oh merlin! He kicked-! And then-n he tried-! I'm dying!"

Harry immediately went to his side, asking him if he was okay (and berating himself for it), to which Sirius only laughed harder. Harry huffed. "I's not funny!" He shouted. He turned to James, who looked about ready to lose it too. "You didn' huwt 'nybudy!" That had James going until Harry's eyes filled with tears of frustration (at his lack of speaking ability, more than anything) and James swooped in.

"Hey now… uh." He looked at an astonished Lily for a second before turning back and kneeling to be as close to eye level as he could with Harry. "Um… You see, im-impregnate doesn't, necessarily mean I hurt anybody." At Harry's confused look, James swiftly added. "Not that I've done either of those things! I mean, I just met you after all, you couldn't possibly be my kid…" And on he babbled, clearly not knowing how to talk to a child but that was okay because Harry was still 16, no matter how compelled he was to act like he was five. Plus, he liked the sound of his father's voice.

"Hawwy." He said suddenly, following up with a large yawn. James stopped in his constant chatter to blink.

"Huh?"

Harry giggled, suddenly overcome with exhaustion. He placed his arms firmly around James' neck before he could talk himself out of it and said. "My name i's Hawwy. You soun' wike my da-AAAH-ad" A yawn broke his last word, but it was clearly understood.

And before Harry officially fell asleep, he locked eye with his godfather, who began to laugh once again at the look and James' face.

**Hey, sorry if the end seemed rushed, it was 4 in the morning by the time it was done. Any major mistakes will be fixed later. I don't know how far between updates with be, they could be once a day to once bi-monthly… it just depends. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Someone asked me if I was Irish. Nope! I love Ireland and that's why I used Irish in the title. Thank you for asking though! Anyway I've gotten quite a few reviews, even after only 9 hours (most were from guests), so here I am once again! **

**Something I forgot last chapter:**

**Amusez-vous!**

James Potter was a lot of things. He was brave, arrogant, maybe a little bit of a bully (according to Lily-Flower) and egocentric. He was not, contrary to popular belief, the type to sleep with every girl he could get and then throw them to the curb. In fact, he had only lost his virginity in a heat of the moment sort of awkward romp where neither he nor the Ravenclaw he was with knew what they were doing.

Afterward, the girl had practically begged him not to tell anyone, tears in her eyes. That might have been the first time he really started to realize how much of an asshole he must seem to the eyes of all that weren't his friends. He had assured her that he would never tell a soul if she didn't want him to and helped her back to her dorms. He had not spoken of it since, not even to his closest friend Sirius.

It was strange, being thought of as both a virgin and a man-whore by two different groups of people but neither being true. He thought he might be a little frustrated that no one thought him capable of losing his virginity without having sex with ever female on two legs that would have him.

Now that stupid mindset was coming up to bite him swiftly in the rear. With an adorable, three years old James clone on his hip, it was rather easy to jump to the conclusion. Even then, though! He would have had to have been thirteen or twelve in order to have a kid this age and he still thought girls had cooties (except for Lily-Flower) back then!

James puffed in annoyance as yet another posse of giggling girls gossiped about him and spread the word that 'Potter really does have a kid! I'm not surprised, everyone saw it coming.' The little boy in his arms shifted in his sleep cuddling in to him. And of course the little bugger went to sleep after not too quietly comparing him to his father and kicking Snivelus in the shin (which was rightfully deserved, thank you very much). Mischief Managed!

Remus was on his right, walking with him to the Headmasters office after pointing out how delicate the situation was. "We have an unknown child running around the castle that looks exactly like you. Not only that but also his clothes are like a replica of the school uniform. The fact that it's Gryffindor does not help your case. We need to take him to Professor Dumbledore."

So they walked, turning corners and heads quickly. It was a good thing they had not been too far from the old coot's stubborn gargoyle but it didn't seem to matter. Lunch was over and the halls were filled with students trying to get to class, leaving no room for secrecy. James realized belatedly that he did not know the Headmaster's password and resigned himself to an embarrassing go of guessing candy. As James only had knowledge of the wizarding kind and Dumbledore had a knack for choosing muggle candies, he figured it might be a long wait.

However, as soon as they got there, Remus calmly said "Skittles." before trudging onward, never losing pace. The dark haired teen made a mental stickit (muggles had interesting things, don't get him wrong) that he would need to talk to Remus later about that.

The polite werewolf was about to knock on the door when it swung open revealing Minerva McGonagall, who was a bit flustered at their abrupt arrival. Both teens thought she might have been up here discussing Sirius, who they had left in the hallway to deal with Snape and Lily. None of that mattered as she hustled them in, taking note of the child in James arms. She sent him a withering glare, which he caught indignantly before excusing herself.

"Ah. Mr. Potter. Mr. Lupin" Dumbledore exclaimed cheerfully, even as he looked upon the child James carried. "Who might this young fellow be?"

"Hawwy." James flushed deeply and cleared his throat. "Harry, I meant. He said his name was Harry."

"I see." The twinkle never left the old man's eyes, not even for a moment, and the younger men thought that maybe he did, in fact, see. "You don't mind if I wake him, do you? I'm afraid I need to ask Harry some questions." He looked imploringly at James.

Said teen wondered why he was asking him but figured the Headmaster might figure they were related, even if the old man didn't immediately jump to the father/son crap. With a nod, Dumbledore pulled out his wand and whispered 'Ennervate'. The spell would insure the boy was awake long enough to answer his questions.

HPHPHPHPHPHP

Harry hated being woken this way. His brain was immediately awake but his body was still heavy, leaving him with a peculiar feeling that was all together unpleasant. Slowly, he lifted his head from where ever it was resting, probably someone's shoulder, and turned an icy glare on the perpetrator, who turned out to be Albus Dumbledore. The man was lowering his wand, damnable twinkle escalating at the angry pout he was graced with.

"Hello, Harry." He said gently, trying to placate him. Harry childishly refused to be placated and immediately turned back into his shoulder pillow, knowing he could not fall back to sleep but pretending to anyway.

"Harry, I just need to ask a few questions, then you can go back to sleep, okay?" Harry was stubborn though and refused to turn around. The shoulder beneath him shifted and a large hand came to rest on his back. It was warm and Harry was suddenly reminded that it belonged to James, his father. Instead of looking up like he really wanted to, he kept his head firmly where it was. Dumbledore would not win this round, no matter who helped. Cheater!

"No." Harry finally said when James tried to turn him. He forced his face further into the crook of his father's neck. He opened one eye to see Remus snickering behind James and he glared at him too.

Suddenly James spoke. "Come on, Harry. He's not trying to be mean by waking you up. Don't you want to get back to your parents?"

"No." It was short and simple and everyone in the room wasn't sure how to feel about the statement. Why would a child not want to get back to their parents?

Dumbledore lost just a little humor for it and leaned forward, staring at the back of Harry's head. "Why not, child?"

Harry could have cursed himself. Way to open that can of worms! How was he supposed to answer? He couldn't really say he was the time traveling de-aged son of James Potter, as time travel was illegal and the story was rather unbelievable in the first place. Should he say his parents are dead? They technically were. Or was that would be?

"They had ta go 'way." There, nice and subtle. It was sort of true too. Maybe he could play off long-lost cousin? Unless Charlus was an only child… He really should have made more of an effort to look up his family tree.

Dumbledore seemed to catch on as his eyes dulled with grave understanding. "Tell me, do you know when they are supposed to be back?"

Harry turned, sad green meeting blue and it seemed that was all the headmaster needed for an answer, though Harry spoke anyway. "Other people tol me they won' eber come back."

James tensed, finally realizing the implications. This little boy had no parents. For how long? Why was he here and not with other people who could take care of him? What did this mean for the little guy? Was he going to go to an Orphanage? The teen shuddered at the thought, drawing the boy closer as if to protect him. He had heard nasty stories about places like those. Harry was too small to go some place like that!

Remus trained calm amber eyes on Harry, seeing how he subconsciously clung closer to James. Something the boy said earlier suddenly struck Remus and he could not rid himself of the thought.

"Professor." He started. "What if we did a spell or something to try to find any family he might have? No three years old deserves to go to an orpha-!"

"Five!"

Everyone turned their attention back to Harry, who was pouting severely at Remus. "I'm five!" He puffed out his chest with a satisfied smile, but no one was paying that any mind.

James released a shuddering breath, eyes wide. He was _five_? He was way too small for his age! Who was taking care of him before? Was it his parents before they died? Maybe it was the other people the boy had mentioned earlier. James gasped. Had he already experienced a horrid orphanage?

Remus seemed to be thinking along the same lines. "There is no way a child should be that small at five, sir! He needs someone who will take care of him!"

"Quite right, Mr. Lupin." Dumbledore said in a low voice. He lifted his wand once again and Harry stiffened. He hoped that whatever spell this was wouldn't reveal his parents. That was a situation he was not prepared to handle. A few whispered words and a soft blue glow later, shimmering gold letters above his head declared his surname vividly above his head. The twinkle came back with a vengeance.

"It would seem, Mr. Potter, that you are his closest relation."

"Woah, woah, woah!" James' voice rose slightly. "There is no way that-!"

"James, it makes sense." Remus cut in behind him. "He looks enough like you to turn heads and he said earlier that you remind him of his father, which means he could have been closely related to you. He might be a distant cousin or something."

James calmed enough to think it through. "Well my grandfather had a brother who sort of broke away from the family. He could have had a kid, who had a kid. Right?"

"It is very possible, James." Dumbledore agreed. "He does look quite like you. Unfortunately, I cannot contact your parents at this time, so things will need to be explained at a later date. I will give permission for Harry to stay with you, in your dormitories and in class, so long as he behaves. I am counting on your responsibility, James."

The teen beamed and nodded cheerfully. He would not let this little boy down! He looked at Harry and felt a rise of affection. He was awfully cute. He was sure his friends would help too! They would have to put any major mischief making on hold until his parents could come and take over. It was mid September now, and Dumbledore was hoping to get a hold of them by Christmas break.

He would need to find someone to watch him for the full moon each month but that should be easy enough. No one could resist a Potter (except Lily-Flower).

"I will announce him at dinner. It should alleviate any rumors that have spread around. You will be given the rest of the day free of classes in order to settle him in. I would hop to it, as Harry seems to think you're his bed." That said, James and Remus made to leave, Harry already asleep once again as the spell wore off.

"Okay, Moony. I'm gonna take him up to the dorms. Do you mind explaining things to Padfoot and Wormtail for me?"

Remus nodded, some of his previous amusement returning. He looked at James, with little Harry on his hip, and Remus thought, for the first time, that James would make an excellent father. He seemed to be a natural at it so far, though he hadn't done much but carry the little guy everywhere. He could feel the protective energy coming off his first friend in waves. He would have to make sure Snape didn't get too close to Harry, as that was a bloodbath waiting to happen.

As students were now in class, James had no problems reaching the Portrait hole to the Gryffindor common room. Reaching the room he shared with his friends, he gentling placed Harry on his own bed before looking around. Okay, the room would have to be child-proofed. Harry did seem like the intelligent sort, but he was still a child and children were way too curious for their own good. James flicked his wand and many of their more dangerous items hid themselves from prying little fingers.

He then took a few of his shirts that he never really wore (and a few of Sirius') and transfigured a small bed to sit next to his own, closest to the window. He didn't get too crazy with it, not knowing what Harry liked, but he was pretty proud of himself. He then placed a few cushioning charms in the harder surfaces of the room, just so Harry wouldn't hurt himself if he tripped and fell. He wasn't sure what he was going to do in class. He would just have to wait and see.

On his bed, Harry rolled and lay spread-eagle across the bed, mouth slightly open with tiny snores that made their way through every once in a while. His hair was exactly like James', flicking in all direction, never lying down. The teen ran his hands through it gently and the little boy shifted into his touch and smiled in his sleep. He wondered if this is why his own father always did this to him.

They stayed up there alone for a while, Harry sleeping and James thinking, until it was time for dinner. Harry woke up just 15 minutes before they were supposed to head down and he followed the much taller boy around the room like a little duckling, sometimes tripping over socks and sweaters. James found himself walking about just to be followed until the little boy caught on and huffed. Harry refused to be picked up when the time came, so he settled for slowing his pace for the five years old. Even so, he felt a little hand latch into his robe to keep him close.

Just before the doors to the Great Hall, Harry stopped and tugged a few times at James to get his attention. He suddenly wasn't so up to walking in there. Nor did he really want to be carried. He did not want to go in there at all. His nap had been great, but it was hardly a good chance to think things through. And it was so different when it was just him and James. He didn't find it hard to act like his new age around him. Following James around like he had was second nature, it seemed.

He was not ready to see the others. Especially not Lily. He had been too tired earlier to really have a reaction but he had lived his whole life listening to her screams as she died. Tears rose into his eyes and he tried to keep them at bay but James saw them.

"Hey, it'll be alright. I'm here, so no one will hurt you, I promise." Well, it wasn't what he was crying about but the comfort was enough, he supposed. The tears still came, but he allowed James to pick him up and walk into the Hall. Utter silence followed them.

Harry looked around to see everyone staring at them. As if he didn't get enough of that in his own time. Through his tears, Harry said as loudly as he could manage. "Stahwing isn' nice!"

Many thought it amusing and went back to eating, much to his relief. His father chuckled and the sound rumbled by Harry's ear. He took the time to thank whatever god was out there for this chance to be close to him, to remember him. His only hope now was that Lily Evans would be with him too. He'd have to up the cuteness, of course. She hated James right now.

They reached the table and Harry was placed on the bench between James and another older Gryffindor Harry recognized as Frank Longbottom, who smiled down at him kindly. He grinned back and turned to the table, only to realize that his eyes just barely cleared the edge and right in front of him, out of his reach, was a treacle tart. He huffed and lifted his arm but his hand landed just shy of the plate. By this time, James was in a conversation with his friends and didn't notice his struggle. He did keep a hand to the five years old back though.

Frank noticed, mostly because the child kept knocking his plate to get to the treat. "Oi, James."

James turned to acknowledge him and noticed the struggle going on beside him. He saw the last treacle tart and resigned himself to not eating it before sneakily moving it closer to the boy. If the kid was anything like him (which he was turning out to be) then he wouldn't appreciate the help.

Harry finally got the treat and let loose a noise of triumph before he noticed James face. He was amused. He turned back to the table, playing close attention and notice the plate was actually closer. So the sneak had tried to help. However, rather than feel angry, like he usually did, Harry felt a warmth in his chest and so he carefully split his tart and placed half on his father's plate.

A sigh across from him drew his attention to a girl that Harry couldn't recognize. "He's so adorable!" She said lightly. She turned to address him directly. "What's your name?"

Harry was determined to get it right this time so he said it slowly, lengthening the 'r'. "Ha-rrrrrrry."

"Harry, huh? Well, how old are you then?"

Harry grinned brighter. "Five!" He held up five fingers for emphasis while inwardly, he wondered if he should worry about his own mental state.

"Wow, that big?" She seemed genuinely surprised but she didn't comment down that road. "Why, you're practically grown!"

Harry only giggled at that because of just how true it was.

Dinner flew by after that, with the teen-turned-toddler practically being force fed by Alice, who he had figured out when someone made a comment about her engagement to Frank. When the end rolled around, Dumbledore called for silence and started. "Before you leave for bed, I would like to explain some events that happened today. It was discovered that a mister Harry Potter got into the school today. I believe he might have been trying to visit his cousin." Here, his eyes twinkled as he winked at James. "He will be staying here until Mr. and Mrs. Potter are free to take him home. I expect he should get a warm welcome."

When he was done, everyone was chattering and shooting glances over in Harry's direction.

Harry could care less now though. He was tired and full and his father and godfather were talking happily as they walked back to the dorms, Remus and Peter Pettigrew behind them. Harry figured that as long as he was never alone with Peter, things would be perfect.

**Again, this seems rather rushed and it took me all day to write. However, I was more awake this time. I don't know if that's a good or bad thing though. The whole point of this is to get across how much I adore the Potter boys, even with all their faults. Please don't flame my loves!**


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